


Waking up Beside Ewe I'm a Loaded Gun

by louissass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Knitting, Louis in Lingerie, Louis in Panties, M/M, Smut, i....don't want to talk about it, knitting kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louissass/pseuds/louissass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> "I just told you that I love your come covered knitted scarf and you want to talk about craftsmanship?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Or, Louis has a knitting kink. Harry knits him a present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking up Beside Ewe I'm a Loaded Gun

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Sina's fault. Also Louis' for wearing [this](http://louhar.tumblr.com/post/136753739837/foliedoucevaldi-welcome-louistomlinson-enjoy) knitted jumper today. how dare he.
> 
> But mainly Sina's.
> 
> Enjoy <3

Louis is in the process of knitting himself a scarf. It’s a putrid yellow colour because that’s the only colour they had left in the shop, but that doesn’t matter. It’s probably never going to leave his bedroom anyway. Louis has to pause for a second and push the heel of his hand into the base of his dick, where it’s filling up at the reminder of what he’s going to do with the scarf when it’s done. _Fuck._

For the amount of times Louis has knitted himself a piece of clothing, you’d think he’d be better at it than he is. And yet, there are gaping holes all over the place where he’s dropped stitches, the width of the scarf regularly changing where he’s knitted some rows looser than others. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s only for him, and Louis couldn’t give a shit what it looked like. In fact, he rather enjoys the change of texture on one piece – keeps it exciting.

When it’s finally done (well, it’s a good six rows shorter than Louis was planning on, but he literally can’t wait any longer) Louis binds off and takes his shirt off eagerly, kneeling in the centre of the bed. He rubs the newly knitted scarf over his torso, hissing between his teeth when the rough material scrapes over his nipples, causing the buds to perk up. Louis rolls his hips into the air, closing his eyes and imagining Harry’s here with him.

He keeps rolling his hips, swiftly undoing the button on his jeans and pushing the scarf inside his pants, the sensitive cock of his head catching against the material every so often. Louis moans and his hips speed up, one hand pinching his nipples as the other slides the scarf over his cock. At some point he manages to get his jeans and pants down to mid-thigh, allowing him to slide the scarf under his balls and over his arsehole, the dry slide against his sensitive hole absolutely euphoric.

Louis rides the scarf faster and faster until he feels his orgasm approaching and comes all over the yellow wool with a loud shout.

He barely has time to come down from his orgasm when Harry opens the bedroom door.

“Lou? What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He huffs jokingly, but internally he’s close to crying. Harry doesn’t know about his certain kink, and now that he does know, he’s probably going to walk out that door and never come back. Or worse, tell everyone.

“To be honest it looks like you just wanked yourself off with a scarf,” Harry replies, a frown on his face. Of course he doesn’t understand, Harry likes normal things like blowjobs and rimming and sex. Not that Louis doesn’t like those things as well, he just also likes wanking off with wool.

“There you go then, don’t need me to explain do you?” Louis retorts. He becomes aware that there is a come covered scarf still between his legs, and swiftly pulls it out, throwing it in the bin before pulling his clothes back on.

Harry watches him in silence, until Louis has stop fidgeting about and they’re standing a few feet from each other. He steps forward. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know? We all have our things,” Harry reaches out for Louis’ waist, pulling them closer together. Of course Louis goes easily. “I could use a scarf in sex if you want. I don’t mind,”

“It’s not the _scarf_ persay, it’s– wool. I like wool.” Louis mutters, his cheeks burning.

“You mean like… Knitted things?” Harry asks inquisitively. Louis knows he’s not doing it to make him embarrassed, but it’s having that effect nonetheless, so. He nods at the ground. “Can I knit you something?”

Louis’ eyes widen and he looks up in shock. No one’s ever offered to make him something to come on before. “You– you don’t have to.”

“Well I want to,” Harry beams. When Louis doesn’t say anything, he continues, “It’s settled then, I’ll knit you something!”

Harry kisses his cheek before exiting the room, rambling on about knitting patterns and tutorials and types of wool. Louis honestly doesn’t know where he found this man, but he’s grateful that he did.

***

“Harry, is it done yet?”

It’s been a week. An entire week of Harry torturing Louis, knitting whatever it is right next to him but not allowing Louis to look. All week, at the breakfast table, watching telly, in bed, all Louis’ been able to hear is the tap tap of the needles clinking together as Harry knits right next to him. It’s infuriating (infuriatingly arousing).

Louis has probably come more times this week than he did the whole of last month, and it’s all Harry’s fault with his stupid erotic knitting. (Can knitting even be called erotic? Even if it can’t, the way Harry’s fingers move as he knits is _sinful_. Should be illegal, really.)

Besides, Louis’ never really been the most patient person in the world, and this is just torture for him. Louis is positive Harry knows it, too.

“Nearly, babe. Just need to go get something from the wrapping cupboard,” Harry grins, clambering off the sofa and making his way to their cabinet. He opens the bottom most left cupboard (dubbed as the wrapping cupboard) and uses the door to shield himself from what he’s doing. Louis pouts, desperately trying to ignore the arousal creeping it’s way through his body.

“Harry hurry up!” He calls impatiently. Louis’ about five seconds away from coming in his pants just from the anticipation, the idea that Harry made him something with the intention of getting him off– it’s almost too much to handle. But he knows Harry wouldn’t appreciate it if this was over before it even begun, so he holds off… Just.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” Harry teases, looking up briefly from his hands and grinning cheekily at Louis (Louis scowls in return) before ducking his head back down and concentrating on the task at hand. Louis knows because he’s got his concentration face on– eyebrows knitted together, tongue stuck out of the left side of his mouth.

Louis groans loudly, sinking further into the sofa, tapping his toes on the ground impatiently. He can’t believe he’s in love with a tease. Ridiculous, that’s his job.

Louis doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there, bored out of his mind and hard out of his pants, until he finally hears his ridiculously teasing boyfriend’s voice, “Alright, Lou, ready for your present?”

When he looks up, Harry is standing in the middle of the room, hands behind his back and a shit eating grin on his face. Louis sort of hates him a little bit, but loves him a whole lot more.

“Give it to me already,”

“Later,” Harry smirks, a small laugh bubbling from his lips when Louis rolls his eyes. “For now, you’ll just have to make do with these,”

Harry pulls his hands from behind his back and reveals–

Fuck. _Fuck._ Harry knitted him a thong. Shit, Louis is literally about to come.

“Do you like them?”

Louis reaches forward and takes the skimpy underwear from his boyfriend’s hands, inspecting it carefully. The colour is perfect; a lovely pale pink that will definitely bring out the tan in his skin, with a light yellow bow threaded through the top. There’s a few (intentional) holes in the front, which will almost definitely catch against his dick in the most wonderful way, and Louis is just so overwhelmed. Harry is perfect. He’s perfect.

“Harry–” Louis’ voice dies in his throat.

Harry rocks forward on his toes and taps the ribbon gently, “Even has a little bow on it, see?”

“These are… Amazing,” He manages eventually, well aware of how thick his voice has suddenly become, heavy with arousal. “I love them, Haz,”

“You gonna try ‘em on for me? I’d love to see you in your pretty thong,” Harry mumbles, taking a step closer to Louis, so their bodies are almost touching.

“Yeah,” Louis’ voice breaks. He’s gonna come, _he’s gonna come_.

“Gonna put on a show for me, babe?” He continues. Louis moans loudly, falling into Harry’s body and clutching on to his T-shirt for support. “In just your little thong and your scarf? Can’t have you getting cold, can we?”

Louis just– he doesn’t know what happens. He moans loudly and comes into his pants, completely unashamed. He doesn’t even know what does it for him, what sends him over the edge, but Louis supposes that doesn’t matter. What matters is Harry, stroking his hair and kissing his face as he works through it.

“You kept my scarf?” He whispers hoarsely.

“Course I did, babe,” Harry grins, rubbing his back lightly, “You made it, then came all over it. Why wouldn’t I keep that?”

“But the craftsmanship is terrible, I mean there are holes everywhere and–”

“Really? I just told you that I love your come covered knitted scarf and you want to talk about craftsmanship?” Harry deadpans.

Louis laughs a little, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek and all but runs out the room, “Better go put these on, then.”

“Your scarf’s in the underwear drawer,” Harry calls after him, making himself comfortable on the sofa.

Louis more or less sprints to the bedroom, and locates the scarf as quickly as possible, pulling a pair of stockings out of the drawer as an afterthought. He thinks they may be Harry’s pair – his own are never so well kept – so are probably going to be a tad long, but that doesn’t matter. It’s most definitely not going to be a problem.

He dresses quickly and spends no less than five minutes inspecting his arse in the mirror, the thin woollen string sitting perfectly in between his two pert cheeks. It all looks amazing, and Louis has to stop himself from coming before he even gets a chance to show Harry.

With that thought in mind, Louis picks up the scarf and drapes it around his neck, moaning when the newly washed fabric scratches against his nipples. Catching sight of his extremely red cheeks in the mirror, Louis realises he needs to get out there right now or this will all be over before it’s even begun. He makes his way back to the lounge, and catches a glimpse of Harry palming his dick through the crack in the door.

“Are you ready?” He calls out, startling the man on the sofa.

Harry chuckles and relaxes even more into the sofa, his legs spread wide. “As ready as I’ll ever be, sweetheart,”

Louis takes a deep breath, before opening the door fully and walking into the room, his back to Harry in order to give him a full view of his arse.

“Louis, fuck,” Harry curses. Louis smirks and palms his arse roughly, knowing that Harry likes it when he can see little red finger marks all over Louis’ skin. Hearing the man swear again, louder this time, Louis knows he’s been successful. “Shit, you look amazing,”

“I do, don’t I?” Louis smiles, rubbing his hand over his woollen thong, and hissing at the contact, “Love my present, Haz, thank you,”

“Baby, I know I said I wanted a show, but I need you right now. That can wait. I need to be inside you,” Harry’s voice is significantly deeper, his eyes almost completely dilated from arousal. “Come here, please come here, I want to touch you,”

Louis moans loudly and takes a moment to control himself, before walking slowly over to Harry, sitting on his very naked lap. Harry’s dick is sticking straight up, Louis can feel it rubbing at his hole as he sits down. He rocks back onto it, almost crying when the thong slides over his dick and hole, the scarf brushing his chest as he moves. Harry’s hands find their way to his arse, pulling and squeezing roughly, while his lips attach themselves to Louis’ neck, just above where the scarf sits.

“Fuck, H,” Louis whimpers, his hands squeezing Harry’s shoulders tightly as he rocks on his dick. “Harry fuck, _fuck_. Fuck me,”

“You still open from this morning, baby?” Harry asks, his fingers dipping into Louis’ crack.

Louis’ mind goes blank, “Yeah yeah yeah,”

“Sure?” He teases, a dry finger pushing in.

“ _Harry_ ,”

“Alright Lou, s’alright. I got you,” He mumbles, pressing the words into Louis’ skin. “I’ll just get you all wet then, yeah? No need to open you up,”

Louis nods (he thinks) and closes his fist around one end of the scarf, dragging it across his skin. He moans, thumb slipping through one of the larger holes in the fabric. “Harry, please,”

“We just need to move you, babe, need to be able to get to your beautiful hole, okay?” Harry asks, waiting for Louis to nod before manhandling him so he’s kneeling on the sofa, his face pressed into the back of the sofa. His legs are spread wider than he thought possible, and he can feel Harry’s shallow breaths on his hole.

Harry licks a fat stripe up his crack, over his thong, causing the wool to push into his skin in a wonderful way that he’s never before experienced. Louis moans, pushing his arse back into Harry’s face, desperately chasing that feeling again. Harry just chuckles and pushes the string of wool aside, licking into him in earnest. Really, Louis isn’t even mad, as long as Harry’s tongue is in his arse, nothing else in the world matters. 

And besides, the way the thong is digging into his arse cheek where Harry pulled it aside, that’s nothing to be mad about.

It’s not long before Harry’s got his tongue and two fingers inside Louis’ arse, stretching him even though they both know he’s pretty stretched from the butt plug he wore this morning, but Harry’s good like that. He takes care of Louis.

Louis’ got tears streaming down his face, his cock dripping all over his thong, by the time Harry finally shoves his cock inside, pounding into him quickly, the way they both love.

“Harry, please,” He gargles, his voice muffled by the sofa cushion.

“Baby, what do you want?” 

Louis screams out when Harry hits his prostate, moving his hips back desperately to meet him, “Come, I wanna come,”

As if by magic, Harry seems to understand what he means by that, and leans forward, his body completely covering Louis’. He continues to rock into him at a fast pace, his hands moving to the front of his body. Harry grabs the scarf in his hands and rubs it all over Louis’ torso, just as the man was doing himself earlier.

“Fuck, fuck, Harry,  _ fuck _ ,” On the last word, Louis comes. He doesn’t remember much of the aftermath, just vague memories of Harry coming inside him, carrying him to the bedroom, cleaning them both up, and tucking him under the covers. Which is where he ends up.

“You’re wonderful, you know that?” Louis whispers into Harry’s side.

“Course I do,” He replies cheekily, reaching over Louis to grab his phone from the nightstand. “So for your next gift, I’m thinking more something like this,”

He hands Louis his phone, on which is a picture of a knitted elephant thong, his dick being the trunk.

“Harry,  _ no _ ,”

Harry falls off the bed laughing so hard.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://millionairelouis.tumblr.com) for more sinning >:) 
> 
> I guess follow [Sina](http://imightaswelll.tumblr.com) too, but be warned,, she's not as innocent as she first seems.


End file.
